


take me for a meanwhile

by symphony7inAmajor



Series: well, you're dirty and sweet [3]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst, Barebacking, Established Relationship, M/M, Panties, Porn with a little bit of Plot, they're stupid and lonely and young and that's the recipe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 03:11:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20575490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/symphony7inAmajor/pseuds/symphony7inAmajor
Summary: Summer is too long this year.(can you be homesick for a person?)





	take me for a meanwhile

**Author's Note:**

> i PROMISE this is the last one... you guys asked for this, okay? okay.
> 
> technically this is part of a series but. it's not really relevant. the finland jersey thing is mentioned offhandedly in part two and that's it.
> 
> i'm so sorry for tripping and spilling my "making nikolaj sad" juice all over the beginning of this fic, but i PROMISE it gets horny. not to fear, my friends.
> 
> as always, title from "bang a gong (get it on)" by t. rex

Summer is too long this year.

Nikolaj has been at home for most of it, training, seeing his family, and going to bed alone every night.

His bed has never felt too big for him before, but this summer he feels like he’s drowning under king-sized sheets and he’s too cold despite the hot nights. Most nights, he curls around a pillow and closes his eyes until he falls asleep. 

He misses Patrik.

After playoffs ended and everyone went their separate ways, Nikolaj went back to Denmark and Patrik went back to Finland. They made a few vague suggestions about visiting each other, going somewhere else, at least making the time to see each other in person once or twice. None of those half-formed plans ever came through. It’s fine, Nikolaj knows. Summer is busy. They can see each other once training camp starts.

Besides, it isn’t like they stopped talking as soon as they went home. They called each other almost every day for weeks and texted even more. Patrik sent him pictures from home and captioned almost all of them _ wish you were here. _ Nikolaj did the same. Sometimes, Nikolaj would get _ dressed up _ and send Patrik pictures. Those were the most exciting messages, but Nikolaj treasured every sweet _ goodnight, love you, _text just as much, if not more.

Slowly, as May turned into June turned into July, the messages slowed down. They talked more during Worlds, ending with several suggestive messages about some suggestions Patrik had made months ago, but aside from that they didn’t talk nearly enough. Patrik would ask him if he wanted to call, but Caroline was waiting for him to take her to dinner. Nikolaj would send a text and Patrik wouldn’t reply for days, and then only with _ sorry, i was busy. _

By the time August comes around, Nikolaj is hardly hearing anything from him. It’s not like he’s much better, though—he hasn’t sent Patrik a message since he last asked how contract negotiations were going. That was four days ago, one of the longest stretches they’ve gone without talking since Patrik’s rookie year. 

Nikolaj tries to convince himself that it’s just summer, that Patrik will sign soon, that when he goes back to Winnipeg, Patrik will be waiting for him with his stupid, crooked smile and pull him into a long hug. 

The longer summer drags on, the more trouble Nikolaj has believing himself.

_ Patrik wouldn’t do this, _ Nikolaj tells himself, over and over like a prayer, _ he wouldn’t just end it like this, he wouldn’t. Patrik loves me. _

Still, every time his phone lights up with a notification, his heart jumps into his throat. He never knows if it’ll be a message from Patrik, a signing alert from the NHL app or worse, a trade alert.

_ Patrik wouldn’t do this, _ Nikolaj thinks, _ would he? _

It scares him, that he doesn’t know the answer anymore. 

He gets drunk one night, when Sebastian convinces him to come along with some friends to a club. He gets embarrassingly sniffly until Sebastian drags him home and puts him to bed. Nikolaj can hear Sebastian shuffling around, but he doesn’t open his eyes when he speaks.

“D’you think Patrik still loves me?” he asks. His voice is wobbly, but he’s too drunk to care. Just saying it out loud, asking, makes it seem real and it _ hurts. _ He doesn’t wait for Sebastian to reply before he adds, “he hasn’t been talking to me. I think he’s trying—trying to—” and the thought of that, of Patrik breaking up with him, makes his voice crack and break on a sob. 

“Niko,” Sebastian says gently, and he doesn’t say anything else, just sits beside Nikolaj on the bed and rubs his back until he falls asleep.

When Nikolaj wakes up, he has a blinding headache, a bottle of Gatorade and ibuprofen on his nightstand, and four missed calls on his phone. He fumbles for the Gatorade and swallows the ibuprofen, then falls back into his blankets and closes his eyes for a moment. 

Then he remembers the calls. 

Squinting against the light of his phone, Nikolaj unlocks his phone. Every one of the four missed calls is from Patrik. Heart racing, Nikolaj calls his voicemail. 

“Nikolaj,” the first one starts, “Sebastian texted me. He said, uh.” Patrik pauses. Nikolaj’s mouth goes dry. If Sebastian told Patrik what he said last night, Nikolaj is going to _ kill him. _“He said you’re not doing so well. I was hoping—I don’t know. I shouldn’t have called you this late, I’m sorry.” The voicemail ends. Nikolaj listens numbly to the robotic voice of his answering machine before the next one plays.

“Sorry for calling again,” Patrik says. Nikolaj presses a knuckle to his mouth and bites down on it. Patrik is his _ boyfriend, _ he shouldn’t have to apologize for calling him. Unless, well. “I’m just worried—are you okay? Sebastian wouldn’t tell me what’s going on. I asked if I should come, but he said you wouldn’t want me to. Please tell me you’re okay. Um. Bye.”

The third voicemail starts with silence, then Patrik sighs loudly. 

“I don’t know why I’m doing this,” Patrik says, and very suddenly he sounds every bit the twenty-one year old he is. “I shouldn’t be bothering you. I don’t mean—You can delete these. Sorry. I’m sorry.” 

The fourth and final message is the shortest one and it came almost an hour later than the first three, which had all come within ten minutes of each other.

“Hey, Nik.” Patrik sounds tired, sad. “I tried going back to sleep. I couldn’t, though. Can’t stop worrying about you. I love you.” Patrik laughs, but it’s a quiet, unhappy sound. He exhales shakily, and Nikolaj realizes that his knuckles are white around his phone. There’s a soft sound and Nikolaj realizes with cold shock that Patrik is _ crying. _ “Sorry,” Patrik gasps, and the line goes dead.

For a long time, Nikolaj just lies there, phone in his hand. He thinks about the way Patrik had said he was sorry, like he was apologizing for loving Nikolaj. He makes his decision.

“Uh,” says Sebastian when he walks into Nikolaj’s room. “What are you doing.”

“Packing,” Nikolaj says, tossing another shirt into his suitcase. He zips it up. “Can you drive me to the airport? My flight leaves in an hour and a half.”

“Excuse me?” Sebastian stares at him. 

“Hurry up,” Nikolaj urges, dragging his suitcase into the hallway. “I can’t be late, let’s go.” 

“Oh my god,” Sebastian says, but he drives Nikolaj anyway.

He’s a good brother like that.

It takes Nikolaj a long time to actually get to Finland, considering he has two layovers. He gets in late and finds a hotel near the Tampere airport, showers off the musty smell of the plane, and passes out on top of the sheets. 

The next morning, he wakes up and remembers that he never actually told Patrik he was coming. For all Patrik knows, Nikolaj ignored his messages and carried on with his life. 

Nikolaj eats breakfast in the hotel’s dining hall before going to call a taxi. He gets dressed, hesitating a moment before he pulls a hoodie on. He knows Patrik’s address, and it doesn’t take very long to get there. It’s still early, so unless Patrik is out for a run, he should be home.

Carrying his suitcase to Patrik’s door makes him wonder if he should have left it in his hotel room. He shakes off his doubts, remembering Patrik’s voice when he told Nikolaj that he loves him. 

Nikolaj knocks. 

Patrik is wearing jeans and a T-shirt when he answers the door. He has the resigned look of someone preparing to tell a door-to-door salesperson to leave, but it melts away into shock when he sees Nikolaj. 

“Hi,” Nikolaj says softly. He swallows. “Sorry I didn’t tell you I was coming.”

“Niky,” Patrik says. He trails off, staring at Nikolaj’s face.

“Can I come in?” Nikolaj asks, shifting his weight to balance his suitcase.

“Oh, yeah, of course.” Patrik grabs Nikolaj’s suitcase and steps back to leave him space to come inside.

Nikolaj takes off his shoes and walks deeper inside, making his way to the living room to sit on the couch. He bounces his knee, rubs his palms over his thighs, then straightens and fists his hands in his pants when Patrik comes back into the room. 

Patrik looks uncertain and Nikolaj’s chest twists. This is his home, and Nikolaj is still in love with him. He shouldn’t be scared. 

“Patrik,” Nikolaj says. He holds out his hands, waiting for Patrik to take them. He doesn’t have to wait long. He pulls Patrik down beside him, close enough that he can curl under Patrik’s arm and lace their fingers together. “I love you.” Nikolaj tips his head up to look at Patrik’s face. “Before we say anything else, just. Remember that I love you.”

Patrik presses his face into Nikolaj’s hair and kisses the top of his head. His free hand comes up to pet his hair. 

“I love you, too,” Patrik murmurs. “I’m just—I’m scared, Niky.”

And that—that shocks Nikolaj. For Patrik, always so bold and confident, to be admitting that he’s scared must mean that he’s _ terrified. _

“We’re going to be okay,” Nikolaj says, rubbing his thumb over Patrik’s knuckles. “I don’t care if—if you end up a thousand miles away, okay? You’re stuck with me.” 

Patrik snorts.

“Like glue?” 

“Like glue.”

“What if you change your mind,” Patrik asks, after a pause. “You’re it for me, Nikolaj.”

Nikolaj swallows against the sudden dryness in his throat. He almost tells Patrik that he’s only twenty-one, he’s too young to be so sure, but when Patrik was nineteen and Nikolaj was twenty-one, he knew with the same certainty that’s in Patrik’s voice right now that Patrik was going to be _ it _ for him. 

“You’re it for me, too,” Nikolaj says, the promise in his voice. He butts his head against Patrik’s shoulder. “But we’re going to have to do a better job about talking, because this,” Nikolaj gestures around the room, at themselves, “is not a good way to do it.” 

“You’re right,” Patrik agrees. He tightens his arm around Nikolaj’s shoulders and pulls him into a half-hug. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Nikolaj says, twisting to wrap his arms around Patrik’s waist to return the hug. He closes his eyes, relishing the feeling of Patrik’s arms around him again, the feeling of him, solid and warm. “Hey, Patty?”

“Yeah?” 

“Remember what you said, about, um.” Nikolaj bites the inside of his cheek. Instead of saying it, Nikolaj sits back up and pulls his hoodie over his head. 

The jersey he’s wearing underneath rides up with it, but when he drops the hoodie and straightens it out, Patrik sucks in a breath. He reaches out and presses his hand to the gold lion. He looks up at Nikolaj’s face.

“It’s yours,” Nikolaj says, tugging the sleeve until Patrik can see the _ 29 _ on it. “I was going to show you these when we got back for training camp, but. I thought I’d surprise you now.”

Patrik doesn’t answer, just leaning forward to kiss Nikolaj with one hand curled around his jaw. Grasping at Patrik’s shirt, Nikolaj slides closer. Patrik slides a hand into Nikolaj’s hair and tugs gently, making Nikolaj’s hands spasm against his chest. 

“Wait,” Patrik says suspiciously, pulling back. Nikolaj paws uselessly at his shoulders, frowning. “What do you mean _ these.” _

“Oh,” Nikolaj says. He grins. “You know.”

Patrik’s eyebrows go up, but his eyes are dark. Nikolaj slips away from him and stands up, leading him to the bedroom. He’s out of his pants by the time Patrik gets into the room, the jersey long enough that it falls down his thighs. He made sure to get one in Patrik’s size. He knows how much Patrik likes reminders of how much smaller than him Nikolaj is, and. Well.

Nikolaj knows what he likes, too.

“Are you going to show me?” Patrik asks, leaning against the doorframe. He sounds very casual, but Nikolaj can tell that he’s hard through his jeans.

“Maybe you should come and see for yourself,” Nikolaj challenges. Grinning, Patrik steps closer and rests his hands on Nikolaj’s thighs, just below the fabric. He pushes his thumbs underneath, stroking back and forth slowly.

Slowly, steadily, Patrik lifts the jersey, his hands running up Nikolaj’s thighs until the fabric is bunched around his waist and Patrik can just _ look. _

Nikolaj flushes at the smug look on Patrik’s face.

“Gold looks good on you,” Patrik says, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“Shut up,” Nikolaj mumbles. “It’s just, you know, it matches the lion.” 

“Sure, Niky.” Patrik laughs softly, then his hands tighten around Nikolaj’s waist and he ducks down to kiss him. 

“I take it all back,” Nikolaj says unconvincingly, grabbing the back of Patrik’s shirt and holding on. Patrik bites his jaw. “I hate you, I—” He yanks at the shirt. “Ugh. Take it off.” 

“Very believable,” Patrik tells him seriously, but his eyes are laughing. He kisses Nikolaj once more, lingering and sweet, then he steps back and pulls his shirt off. He unbuckles his belt and steps out of his jeans, then pushes Nikolaj back carefully until the backs of his knees hit the bed and he sits down. 

Patrik looks at him for a long moment, considering. He takes the edge of the jersey between two fingers.

“Take this off,” he says. 

“What?” Nikolaj blinks up at him, confused. 

“You can wear this again,” Patrik says, “but today I want to see you.”

Nikolaj is pretty sure that his entire body blushes bright red when Patrik says that. To distract himself, he fumbles to pull the jersey off. He drops it in a heap on the floor. Uncertainly, he goes for the waistband of his gold panties. 

Patrik catches his wrist.

“Keep those on for now,” he says, amused.

Both of them are still in their underwear when Patrik gets Nikolaj flat on his back. Nikolaj wraps his legs around Patrik’s waist, trying to grind against his stomach. Patrik presses a palm flat to Nikolaj’s chest—over his heart, over where the crest of a jersey would sit. That hand slides up his chest, his neck, over his jaw, and finally twists into his hair so Patrik can pull Nikolaj’s head back enough to set his teeth against Nikolaj’s throat. 

“Patrik,” Nikolaj gasps, his voice breaking. “Come _ on.” _

“You want me to fuck you?” Patrik asks, voice quiet against Nikolaj’s skin and making him shiver.

“Yes,” Nikolaj breathes. His hips twitch uselessly. Patrik tightens his grip in Nikolaj’s hair and Nikolaj whines embarrassingly.

“Wow,” Patrik says, smirking. “You really like that, don’t you.”

“Shut up, stup—nngh,” Nikolaj says, breaking off when Patrik does it again. 

“Thought so.” Patrik kisses his cheek, then his lips. “You should keep it like this all the time.” 

“Hmm.” Nikolaj stretches out as Patrik sits up to get the stuff, arching his back to show off a little. He jumps when Patrik slides a hand over his stomach, then pushes down. He flattens against the mattress with a gasp, squinting at Patrik grumpily.

“Cute,” Patrik informs him. Nikolaj watches Patrik slide out of his boxers, then flicks his eyes back up to Patrik’s face. Patrik raises an eyebrow, so Nikolaj licks his lips exaggeratedly. “Idiot,” Patrik says fondly, and he crawls over to lie on top of Nikolaj again. He rubs his fingers over Nikolaj’s panties, under the waistband and between his thighs. 

“Hurry up,” Nikolaj complains, but his voice is breathy from the way Patrik is stroking his thumb under the panties and against Nikolaj’s hole. He whines when Patrik’s hands disappear, but then Patrik is working Nikolaj’s panties down. Nikolaj wriggles around, trying to help but probably making things worse.

Eventually, they manage to get them off and the gold panties crumple on the floor beside the jersey.

Patrik settles back between Nikolaj’s legs and they finally press together, skin to skin. Nikolaj doesn’t even bother pretending how much he’s missed this, running his hands over Patrik’s chest, his shoulders, his back.

His fingernails dig into Patrik’s shoulders when Patrik pushes his first finger inside, still cold with lube. Patrik hisses at the sting, ducking his head to mouth at Nikolaj’s jaw. He crooks his finger, makes Nikolaj tremble. 

Normally, they wouldn’t go so slowly, but they haven’t seen each other in months and using his own fingers is a lot of trouble on days when Nikolaj just wants to get off. So, Patrik takes his time, making sure Nikolaj has adjusted to the first finger before slipping the second one in beside it.

He waits until Nikolaj is shaking and desperate, almost begging for more, then he finally adds a third finger. He fucks Nikolaj slowly with his fingers, and it’s _ so much _ but it’s not nearly enough and Nikolaj digs his fingers into Patrik’s back as hard as he can, trying to say with his body what he can’t with his words.

“Okay,” Patrik says softly, easing his fingers out carefully. “You’re okay.” Nikolaj shudders, his thighs twitching around Patrik’s hips. He watches, dazed, as Patrik reaches for the condom and lube.

“Wait,” Nikolaj blurts. Patrik looks at him questioningly. “Don’t—you don’t have to use it.” He blushes as Patrik realizes what he’s saying, his eyes going wide.

“Niky,” he says, “are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” he says quietly. “Please. If, um. If you want to.” 

Patrik kisses him so hard that their teeth knock together almost painfully, but Nikolaj ignores it. He closes his eyes, feeling Patrik’s hand under his back, sliding a pillow under his hips, then nothing, nothing, and—

“Fuck,” Nikolaj says, dragging it out for too long. He drops his head back, eyes fluttering in an effort to stay open. His chest rises and falls rapidly as Patrik pushes inside, his breathing only evening out a bit when Patrik’s hips are pressed against his ass. 

Patrik cups his clean hand around Nikolaj’s cheek, eyes searching. Nikolaj takes his hand, holding it against his face. 

“Nikolaj,” Patrik breathes. He rolls his hips slowly, in that perfect way he knows so well. Nikolaj’s eyes slip shut again and his mouth falls open. Patrik’s thumb presses against his lower lip and he nips at it gently, arching back against Patrik’s thrusts. 

When Patrik is satisfied that Nikolaj can take it, he speeds up. He grips Nikolaj’s hip in one hand and his hair in the other, thrusting hard and fast at that perfect angle. Nikolaj notices dimly that he is making some truly awful noises, but then Patrik pulls his hair to bite the soft skin under his ear and he stops caring.

Nikolaj, shuddering and twitching, tips over the edge slowly. Patrik works him steadily, heat building in his belly until he feels like he could melt. When he comes, it isn’t a surprise. Patrik follows him over almost right after.

The feeling of Patrik finishing inside him, hot and slick, has Nikolaj’s dick valiantly trying to get hard again. Not something he knew he was into, but. That’s life.

“That was deep,” Patrik says. Nikolaj throws an arm over his face.

“You can’t make fun of me when your dick is still in my ass,” Nikolaj says, muffled. “That’s the deal.”

Patrik laughs breathlessly and slowly pulls out, making Nikolaj shudder. There’s a weird, leaky feeling and he presses his thighs together as much as he can with Patrik still kneeling between them.

“Get up,” Patrik says, tugging at Nikolaj’s arms. “You have to shower now, okay?”

“Mmkay,” Nikolaj agrees, but moving is just _ so _ difficult. 

“I’m not carrying you to the shower,” Patrik says, “but you can lean on me when we're there. Deal?” 

Nikolaj considers it. 

“Okay,” he says with a sigh, shifting enough to sit up.

Patrik guides him into the shower and turns the water on hot, then lets Nikolaj wrap his arms around his waist and lean into his chest. He strokes his fingers through Nikolaj’s hair. 

“Hey,” Nikolaj says, tipping his head back to look at Patrik. He blinks water out of his eyes.

“Mm?”

“Can we take a nap after this?” His hours of travel while hungover have started to catch up with him.

“Nikolaj,” Patrik says, and his voice is gentle in the way it gets when he thinks Nikolaj is extra sensitive, “we can do whatever you want.” 

“Oh,” Nikolaj says. He smiles against Patrik’s skin and snuggles closer. “Thanks. Love you.”

“I love you, too,” Patrik says, and Nikolaj doesn’t doubt him for a second.

**Author's Note:**

> will this be my last fic written while patrik is still a jet? place your bets!
> 
> [tumblr](https://symphony7inamajor.tumblr.com)


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